


talking to heaven

by constellation_composer



Series: songs from the north [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, denmakr is only kind of in it, hes dead, two years old drabble??? you bet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 19:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18453125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constellation_composer/pseuds/constellation_composer
Summary: In the aftermath of Mathias's suicide, Lukas must learn to cope.





	talking to heaven

**Author's Note:**

> this is super short but its been buried in my drafts for two entire years, maybe three, so i figured yall might get a kick out of it

He hadn’t cried in God knows how long, and he hated that he was crying now. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and stared blankly at the stone, numb to the cold. He’d been standing here for ages- hours, probably.

“Bastard,” he said finally. His voice is steady. “You fucking bastard.” He didn’t usually curse, but now is the time if there ever was one. “What the fuck were you thinking?” The gravestone, of course, doesn’t reply, and he sniffs a little, pulling his coat tighter about himself. It’s not his coat, actually; it’s a long black coat that used to belong to the man that now reposed in the frozen dirt. “What a way to go,” he continued bitterly. “Leaving me behind like that. It’s not fair.” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes.

His lip was starting to go numb. He bit down, hard, to keep sensation. His shaking hands found their way into the pockets of the coat, and he kept staring down at the grave, his face as passive as ever.

“I loved you,” he said, almost without meaning to. “I really did. Did you know that?” He needed to stop asking questions- the silence made his heart ache more. “You wrote to say that you were sorry for loving me. You said you didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to hate you more.” He paused and breathed out, watching the fog in the fading light. “But that’s bullshit,” he spat. He was surprised at his own bitterness. “I never hated you. I loved you.” His fists clench. “I loved you, you bastard.”

The wind blew past him, hard, whipping his hair into his eyes. He blinked against the rush of air, hissing as snow pelted his cheek. He should go home. The others would be worried. “Fuck them,” he whispered. “They don’t understand.” They didn’t get it- he had to be here. He needed to see this grave. “I wish you could reply to me.” He shifted his stance. “I wish you were here.” The tears are thick in his eyes- he hasn’t cried in so long. “I wish you were here,” he repeated, choking on the words. “Dammit, Mathias, I wish you would have stayed. I needed you. I loved you.” The words are empty now that there are no ears to hear them, but Lukas closed his eyes tighter, trying to stop crying. He hated crying. “I want to stop crying,” he murmured. “But I can’t. What have you done to me?” The gravestone was blurry when he opened his eyes again.

He should go home.

“What if I stayed here forever?” He asked quietly, kneeling. “What if I stayed here until my heart froze? Would they bury me next to you?” He reached out and laid a hand on the stone. “What if I could be with you again, Matt? Would you let me stay by your side this time?” He wiped at his eyes. “Taking yourself from me was cruel. You said you loved me.” The tears are coming harder. He blamed it on the way the wind was picking up. “You said you loved me, you fuck. Why would you hurt me? You wrote to say you loved me and then you took a gun to your temple before I could say I loved you back. I did, Matt, I loved you.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Do you even see how unfair it all is? I loved you. You loved me. We could have been happy if you had just put down the damn gun-” His words were cut off by a sob, and he crumpled in on himself, giving up the pretence of composure. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, clasping his arms about himself and letting his forehead fall against the stone. “I should have seen it- I should have done something-” He can’t speak, so he gives up, his shoulders shaking violently, letting the guilt and grief tear at him mercilessly, breaking his heart in even more jagged pieces than it already been rent to, a perfect picture of pitiful penitence. “I’m sorry, Mathias,” he managed again. “I know it was my fault, I should have told you I loved so long ago.” There are no excuses to make. He can’t change the past. He can’t revive the corpse. “I’d give my life for you live again.”

But he can’t change a thing, so he stayed by the grave, sobbing until he has no tears and stuttering out apologizes, trying to talk to heaven.


End file.
